Battle of the Ages
by Viserys
Summary: Kibeth tells the true story of what happened when the Charter was created! ~GASP~ ABHORSEN SPOILER. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
1. Prologue

Battle of the Ages By: Aldrai Kastien, the guy formerly known as Aldrai Tassada  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing. DO YOU HEAR ME?! Rating: PG-13 for battle scenes. IOW, violence. A/N: WHY has no one done this? (actually, I just found out that someone else already has, so never mind.) WHY?! Kudos to you if you R/R!!!  
  
Prologue  
  
~I'll sing you a song of the long ago-~ ~Seven shine the Shiners, oh!~  
  
I was wandering through Death, an amateur Necromancer, the Abhorsen-in- waiting. I was doing it because my father, Adrian, the Abhorsen eight generations after Lirael, had decided it was time for me to learn my way to the Ninth Gate and back. As you can probably guess, I was thrilled. I was working my way towards the curtain of mist known as the end of the First Precinct when I heard a sloshing sound in the distance. I drew my sword with my left hand, and readied my right for grasping a bell. Oddly enough, I didn't feel anything Dead about the creature rapidly drawing near to me. If anything, it was the most alive being I had ever encountered. Its very being washed the black water around it with glowing Charter Marks, yet in its heart I sensed a very, very powerful core of Free Magic. I prepared myself with Saraneth, and readied Master Marks of binding and destroying on my lips. Whatever this creature was, it wouldn't take me down without a fight.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
I, the Disreputable Dog, Kibeth, the Walker herself, was, for once, bored of walking. How ironic. After breaking one of our sacred laws by sending the child Nicholas back into Life, the Six had voted unanimously to sentence me to walk, to walk to Border of Life until I met one who would hear my story, and release me. Unfortunately, that person had to be an Abhorsen. And when you constantly hear the melody in your ear, forcing you to never stop moving, constantly walking, then the chances of meeting an Abhorsen on the Border is quite slim. Then I heard him. It sounded like a novice Necromancer, out for an excursion to try out his new Bells. A growl began deep in my throat. The power of Kibeth, of myself, flowed into the water around me, turning it gold with force. This Necromancer would never live to harm another Life. As I approached him, for I was sure now that he was a boy, I noticed with minor worry the blazing sword he held high with his left hand, and the silvery, glimmering bells on his bandolier. As he turned and faced me, the Charter Mark on his forehead flared as he unleashed...wait. Charter Mark on his forehead? Why, this was none other than the Abhorsen! I quickly erased every Mark I had created from my mind, yet was not lucky enough for him to do the same. Although I could not actually die, the body I had constructed for myself could be ripped to shreds, and I was not keen on feeling a lifetime's worth of pain at the moment, so I dodged nimbly aside as he spat the spell at me, and watched with a sardonic gaze as the supposedly freezing water was boiled and swept away in an instant.  
  
"I hope you don't treat all of the ancient powers of the Old World with this much disrespect, Aldrai?" I asked him.  
  
He glared at me in an annoyed way. If I weren't afraid for the life of my body, I would have laughed. "What are you, to mock the Abhorsen? And how is it that you know my name?" he demanded.  
  
My happy mood slowly simmered away. "Don't play me for a fool. You are no Abhorsen. If you had even half of the power of your father I would be scared. However, you have next to no power, and unless my power of observation has dwindled down to a mere nothing during the time I have spent here, this is only your second time in Death. Trust me, I am not one that you should anger."  
  
He still looked a little suspicious, but after I lulled him a little bit with my words, he decided to listen.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
The strange creature approaching me in the water had turned out to be a large black dog. A story passed down by my family told of how my great- great-great-great-great-great grandmother, Lirael, had bound Orannis, the Destroyer, with the help of Kibeth, in dog form. This looked like Kibeth, but in Death, who could be sure? I unleashed my spell and watched the creature jump aside, narrowly missing incineration. It then taunted me, and revealed itself as Kibeth.  
  
"Aldrai. Would you like to hear a story?" she said, after a short pause.  
  
"What story?" I muttered, my curiosity aroused, although I was still a little bit annoyed by being bested by a dog.  
  
"Oh," she began mysteriously, "a story of the Beginning, when Orannis was first bound. Surely you are interested??" she continued, her voice rising shrilly at the end. For some reason, she really wanted me to listen.  
  
I agreed, albeit sullenly. "Alright, Kibeth, if that's who you truly are, I will listen to your story."  
  
She laughed heartily, relief evident on her face. "Alright then! Let us go to a better place." She barked an extremely high note, impossible for anything in existence to make, and I felt myself walking, walking to Charter knows where...  
  
A/N: Do you like it? Do you? Please say you do! Review and I'll be your best friend! 


	2. In the Beginning

A/N: Yeah, no one's reviewed yet, but that's to be expected. Nothing GOOD has happened as of now. Here, the Dog begins her story, after running her mouth in front of the Council.  
  
Chapter I: In the Beginning...  
  
~What did the Seven do way back when?~ ~Why they wove the Charter then!~  
  
I quickly became annoyed with the walking. The endless walking. I was sure that I hadn't been moving for more than a minute, yet moving against a roaring current, in ice-cold water, it drains your energy quite fast. Many times I tried to stop, and each time the faint whistling in my ear grew to a piercing gale, and once again my feet began moving to that enigmatic tune.  
  
I sensed the dog marching stalwartly behind me, somewhat grudgingly, as though she were also being walked against her will. As I stumbled through Death, I noticed the pallid grays and blacks warping and bending into a maelstrom of bright, vivid colors. In a matter of minutes, we were standing in a rainbow realm, with 10 glowing portals swirling in the distance. One, a dark and fiery vortex, was rimmed with void, and after the portal faded into something recognizable, all I could see was black and gray. This was clearly where we had come from, Death. The other nine were harder to decipher. On close inspection, I realized that they were no warp vortexes at all, yet blazing figures, all standing in a circle around the dog. There was a gap to the right of the second figure. I quickly realized who these people were. I was in the presence of the nine Bright Shiners themselves! But wait. How could Orannis be here? I looked at the Ninth space, and instead of a blazing figure of abstract beauty, there was emptiness, as though something was missing. It was a mere semblance of Orannis. Something to take his place while he was away. And the missing slot was obviously Kibeth, who was trembling next to me.  
  
"Kibeth. You have already violated a second of our laws by bringing this mortal here. Explain yourself!" Mosrael's deep voice grew in intensity, his powerful dissatisfaction evident by the way his figure quivered and pulsed, shot with red light. The figure next to him, Ranna I guessed, tried to calm him, only to be tossed aside.  
  
The dog began speaking in a tentative voice, "You see...well...perhaps you remember..."  
  
"Get on with it." spoke Belgaer in a bored voice, as though this was somewhere that he really didn't want to be at.  
  
"Well," started the dog again, "You probably remember, when Orannis was bound anew, that I saved the youth called Nicholas Sayre from Death?"  
  
"Yes..." said Mosrael.  
  
"And you remember that as punishment for doing so, you forced me to walk the Border of Life, until I could find an Abhorsen, an Abhorsen who would listen to the story of the Beginning, and understand it, as well as a few other things I must do? Well, here, 172 years later, I have found an Abhorsen, and he will listen!"  
  
Astarael began speaking in her musical voice, "Kibeth, you must understand. Although this boy has the potential to be very powerful, and he is, indeed the Abhorsen, he is from the line of Lirael, who, as you know well, was married to the same Nicholas that you so stupidly saved, and since this boy is from the line of Nicholas, he cannot count."  
  
The dog stared at her, flabbergasted, a low growl crawling unbidden to her throat. "Cannot count. Cannot COUNT?! Do you KNOW what it is like to walk, continuously, on the VERY Border of Life, the entrance to our Realm so close, the exit to Life so very near? However, I couldn't stop and take a rest. I had to keep WALKING against the bone-chilling current. I will NOT be told that the boy I have found CANNOT COUNT!!!!" her voice grew to a crescendo as she shouted in rage, her figure slowly melting away from a dog, into a glowing figure similar to them, except more recognizable as a human. She wore simple black robes, had short, black hair, and had piercing, icy gray eyes. At the moment she had her arms pinned to her sides, and was screeching at the Council of Six like it would actually accomplish something. Remarkably, it did.  
  
Dyrim looked at her coolly, her smooth face only slightly wrinkled in annoyance. "Kibeth. Still your tongue or I will still it for you. Unless you forget, that IS my power. Now. We have taken pity on you, and will allow you to teach this youth what happened in the Beginning. If you stray from the truth AT ALL, you shall not be forgiven, and you will be bound to Walk until whatever body you choose to construct for yourself becomes so worn out that you fade out of existence. Do you understand? No then. You may begin your story."  
  
Kibeth nodded sullenly, and looked over at me. She motioned that I should sit down, and she did likewise, her back to the Council. She took a deep breath, and began her story.  
  
* * * * *  
  
In the Beginning, there was naught but Chaos. Free Magic was everywhere. In fact, everything was Free Magic. Even us. However, there were Nine that were more powerful, more sentient, and more constrained than the millions of others. They named themselves Ranna, Mosrael, Kibeth, Dyrim, Belgaer, Saraneth, Astarael, Yrael, and Orannis. Of the Nine, seven decided that it was best to bring order to the Chaos. You know who they were. Yrael was indifferent. Orannis, however, was a separate case entirely. He enjoyed being one of the most powerful entities in existence, and knew full well that out of the Nine, he was the strongest. He wanted a dimension where he was the ruler, and we were his advisers. Naturally, the other eight wanted nothing to do with that, and said that if he did not want Order, then they would cast him out. Orannis, left to his own devices, fled to a distant world, and began wreaking destruction, unbeknownst to the eight. Secretly, Yrael was also against the idea of order, not because he didn't want it, but the idea scared him. He enjoyed being free to do whatever he wished, to assume any form he so chose. Unfortunately, the seven did not share his views, so he had no intention of letting them know how he disagreed with them.  
  
After several millennia of planning, the seven were ready to weave their dream, Order, into existence. They created a mark, a symbol, for every item that ever was or ever will be. They wove together the Order, creating boundaries for the Chaos. After many, many more years, they had defined several worlds with their symbols, including their own. Kibeth and Ranna were the first to choose shapes for themselves, and wove them with care out of the billions of marks that they had already made. Astarael and Dyrim quickly followed, and soon after Saraneth and Belgaer did the same. After much persuasion by the others, Mosrael wove himself a figure. Yrael refused, because he was sure that if he did, he would have officially joined the ranks of the seven, and would become part of the Order. Unlike the others, Yrael had no intention of giving himself up into the flow and ebb of the Order. Finally, Belgaer decided on a name for the Order. It was to be called the Charter, for it was like a map to existence. The Charter grew and grew as more marks were added into its seemingly endless tide. Each of the eight created a mark to represent themselves, yet were hesitant to give these marks to the Charter, for fear that someone would use them wrongly. They kept their own marks to themselves.  
  
Finally, the Charter was nearing completion. Every creature, being, and idea had a mark. Every world was defined. Everything was as it should be. Everything, that is, except one world. It was like a sore thumb in the night sky. While the eight would be gazing at the worlds they had created, they would see, like a beacon in the distance, a twisting and shifting blob of vile light, a pulsing orb of Free Magic. Many times they had tried to force it into the Charter, yet each time some hidden intelligence had held it back. Finally, they remembered. They remembered that once, long ago, there had been a ninth. A being more powerful than any of them. A being capable of holding all of their powers at bay with a single thought. But how could that be? Surely if all eight of them focused, they could overcome Orannis! Then they realized. One of them was holding back. One of them had not given themselves up to the Charter they been working to create. They found a quick and efficient way to do so. Kibeth spent the next several years creating a mark. A single mark that would disband anything it touched. It was an Anti-charter. She held it carefully, and placed it on the forehead of each of the eight, in turn, starting with herself. Each time the mark on their foreheads won over the Anti-charter. Then, she reached Yrael. As she placed the mark to his forehead, his baptismal Charter mark fell away to dust, revealing a twisting, writhing mark symbolizing the Chaos they had been fighting to disband. In horror, Yrael fled to the planet of Orannis, seeking aid. Orannis took one distasteful glance at him, and threw him at the feet of the seven.  
  
The seven had been chasing Yrael for decades after he had escaped from them. After a little bit of thought, it was quite obvious as to where he was...  
  
A/N: Ack! This is harder than I thought. I need ideas, please help me! *Looks at them pleadingly* PLEASE review. I'll love ya if you do! *Mutters* SIKE! You didn't hear that....Oh by the way. I was reading this to myself, after I posted it, and noticed several small grammar problems. When I went to fix them, I got most of them, but missed a lot. If you find any, DO NOT HESTITATE to alert me as to their existence. I want this story to be SO perfect that I could turn it into my English teacher for extra credit. Hey. Maybe I will! 


	3. The Finding of Yrael

A/N: I like reviews. A lot. However, there seems to be some sort of anti- review shield surrounding every story I write. Even if it's a flame, please just send it. It doesn't take TOO much of your time, I swear! Oh and in case you missed it, I sorta (kinda) explained why Mogget is so annoyed with the Dog all the time, in the last chapter. Its cuz if it weren't for Kibeth, Yrael would never have been revealed as the slacker that he is! BUAHAHA. Eh-hem. Sorry. Enjoy!  
  
~The Eighth did hide, hide all away~  
  
Chapter II: The Finding of Yrael  
  
Yrael had been hiding for many years, hidden away in a cave, near a river. There was a special reason for the spot he had chosen. Since Yrael had never truly made a form for himself, he continued to exist as a shape- shifter. Of all the forms he had tried, none did he enjoy more than the cat. Although it was a bit troublesome, having no thumbs to speak of, Yrael enjoyed the grace and fluid movement of the cat. It was because of this that Yrael had gone against the vow that he had made to himself; that he would never attempt to use, or add to, the Charter. He did, however, make one little spot. A small island, full of fish and trees and caves. And fish. Whenever the seven were too demanding, or just annoying, Yrael would run away to this nice spot, the place that he had made for himself.  
  
He was there now, but not happy like he usually was. Now, he was trembling in fear of the wrath of the seven. They were stalking him, hunting him, for a crime that he had committed. They were upset that he was working to disband the Charter, the Order that they had all been working so hard, over the past 4000 years, to create.  
  
Yrael's ear sharpened as he heard footsteps approaching his cave. When he saw that it was just a deer, he relaxed a little bit, only to have his pulse quickened again at the next small disturbance. So it went on, for several more weeks, until Yrael was so distraught that he gave up his obsessive alertness, and took a brief nap. This, he was to find, was an awful mistake.  
  
The seven had been trailing Yrael for decades, only to be stumped when his path suddenly stopped. All they could find were some faint wisps of Charter Marks, hastily cleared away after their casting. Although the seven knew what to look for after analyzing the marks, they still worked surprising well; although Yrael's path clearly led west, all of them felt an insanely powerful urge to head in the opposite direction. Even if Yrael was against the Charter, he was still adept at wielding it...  
  
After much more brain wracking searches, they found a surge of power emanate from somewhere. It was far too powerful to be one of their creations. It must be the energy of Yrael's subconscious mind. They tracked the signature, and soon stumbled upon a small cave, filled with a maddening bright glow. The glow, they decided, was a minor defense mechanism. Any weaker creature would be scared away. They were not. They took a few steps towards his prone form, causing him to wake with a start.  
  
"Yrael..." began Dyrim, "prepare yourself for a trial by the Council of Seven!"  
  
A/N: yes yes. I am aware that this chapter is insanely short, and I am afraid there will be no more updates until I beat Wind Waker. I am sure that that task will be accomplished over Spring break. Unless, that is, I get plenty of reviews and eager requests. Then I might consider it. Thank you.  
  
Adriel's Note: Yo!!! This is me, Adriel, the Tenth!!! Which means the tenth, like the nine, but the tenth. Anyway, you all have to read this fic because if you don't you won't have any input. Don't you WANT constitutional rights?? Egh...sorry...but I've been studying civics...but really, review. *Rings himself, the summoner* Saraneth, bind them to reviewing the fic!!! *Ring...* 


	4. Yrael's Trial

A/N: Yay. I got ONE review since my last update, but since it was so good, I'm taking a break from Windwaker. You should all be honored. O btw. Adriel is my screwed up best friend who likes posting things on every thing I write. He's not really screwed up, I just felt like saying that.  
  
Chapter III: Yrael's Trial  
  
~But the Seven caught him and made him pay~  
  
Yrael dreaded the next few days of his existence, seeing as how the seven had him locked in a cell literally covered from floor to ceiling in the Anti-charter Marks that Kibeth had created. He had attempted, several times in fact, to escape, only to find his very essence unraveling at the corrosive touch of their dark magic. He swore several times, before retreating to a corner, one unstained by the painful element.  
  
He spent many hours here, contemplating his fate before He was greeted by a commanding knock at the door. He heard the loud and powerful voice of Saraneth call out from behind it.  
  
"Yrael, it is time for your trial by the Council."  
  
"And what makes you think I'll be coming?" he spat insolently, caring nothing for the ones who had so heartlessly bound him to this chamber.  
  
Saraneth thought to himself for a few moments, and then resolved to try out the new mark he had created. This mark was one the captured his very spirit. It was, if you will, a modification of the mark of his name that he had made earlier. This one, however, did not define him like the other one did. This mark carried his power, the power of authority.  
  
Yrael's heart leapt when he saw the red glow from the Anti-marks fade away, sensing that his time for escape was near. He dashed towards the door, whispering corrupted marks of opening and forcing. He watched in satisfaction as the door caught fire, and was ripped apart at the hinges. Right as he thought that freedom was assured, he found himself being lifted into the air, by a strange magic that he had never seen before. When he looked frantically around, he saw nothing but the commanding figure of Saraneth, head inclined as though asleep. As he struggled against his invisible captor, Yrael slowly noticed a misty golden aura emanating from the Charter on Saraneth's forehead, veiling the area around him in glittery energy. This must be a new mark, thought Yrael. Suddenly, Saraneth's head snapped upright, and Yrael watched in confusion as an incantation began tumbling out of his mouth. As Yrael watched, Saraneth wove a new mark into being, and poured every ounce of his strength into it, weaving several copies of it with others into a complicated and powerful spell. Right before his eyes, golden marks linked together like chains, pouring out of the air around them, adding to the growing power. Finally, Saraneth's spell casting drew near to a close, and he sealed the lot with a master mark, his own symbol. Yrael, stupefied by the sudden turn of events, began analyzing the spell, seeking its purpose, instead of preparing to evade it. Saraneth nodded in satisfaction and hurled the chain of marks at his adversary. As it melded into Yrael's flesh, he suddenly became docile. Slowly, his world went black.  
  
When he awoke, he was in an ethereal realm, a place with drifting rainbows. Everywhere the tingle of Charter magic resounded, and the place echoed with the aura of ancient spells. It only took him a matter of seconds to resolve that he was in the heart of the Charter, and he was about to be tried by the Council of Seven. The Council was an idea made up long ago by the Eight, that if one of them turned to Orannis's side, or turned against the other seven, then they were to be tried by the remaining seven. Up until now, there had never been a use for it...  
  
Yrael prepared to get up and leave, but a whisper in his ear swelled slightly, and unconsciousness threatened to overcome him. At the same time, a powerful urge to remain seated welled up from deep inside him. Yrael remembered, horrified, the powerful spell thrown at him by Saraneth. It was now part of him, and he would forever have to do whatever the seven wished of him. He was Bound. As he looked around, he became aware of seven tall, shining figures standing around him in a semi circle. He gazed at them, and slowly recognized them as the seven themselves; Ranna, all the way up to Astarael. They were looking upon him stoically, as if deciding his fate. He decided to speak up.  
  
"Well, let's get on with it!" he declared. "We are having a trial, am I correct?"  
  
Mosrael laughed bitterly. "Trial? Yrael. The trial has already occurred. We are considering your sentence as we speak!!"  
  
Yrael digested this information for a few minutes, before slowly looking at them each in turn, seeking comfort in their unforgiving faces. "But, but...how could I sleep throughout the entire trial? Surely it must have taken a great deal of time?"  
  
"Seven days, exactly." spoke Ranna softly.  
  
"S..s...seven?!" spluttered Yrael.  
  
"Yes." said Astarael coldly.  
  
"How is it that I was asleep this entire time??"  
  
"I shall answer that." said Saraneth, stepping forward. I have been long working on a mark, a mark of pure binding. Up until the point that I bound you, it had never been tested. It is, if you will, my power. The power that I have chosen myself. It is too much of a strain to keep in existence to make another one as powerful, so I found it fitting to choose one power to create. Binding seemed appropriate for the time. As it is, I willed you to sleep, and you slept. It is that simple. In short, you are my slave."  
  
Yrael looked at him venomously for a few seconds, then decided against it, for fear of angering his new 'master'. "And...what is my sentence, or have you not decided?"  
  
Belgaer glanced at Saraneth before speaking. "We were thinking about melding you with an Anti-charter Elemental, one that we call the Stilken, forcing you both to be destroyed. However, since Saraneth has so kindly told us this story now, we will have to think of a way to use this new ability of his. You know, it is really thanks to our friend Kibeth here that we ever found you out.  
  
Yrael, having not yet realized this, stared at Kibeth for a few tense seconds, as though preparing to strike her. He heard a few sentences whispered from Saraneth, and found himself drifting to sleep again. He instantly made himself passive again, and the weariness subsided.  
  
"For now," spoke Dyrim in her musical voice, "You shall be once again imprisoned. Good-bye, Yrael." With that, she waved her hand, and Yrael found the Charter World melting away, and found himself once again inside his small red cell.  
  
A/N: Wow. I did it. I made Free Magic. Don't worry, the current Free Magic isn't really Free Magic. It's just called that. The Free Magic that's in the books is Anti-charter. If you're confused email me. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!! Oh btw. I finished Windwaker, so I can update more often. IDEAS ARE WELCOME! 


	5. Orannis

A/N: Stupid poem. I had to break it apart. I skipped from line 4 to the line where Mogget runs from the Seven. Oh well. Thanks for the reviews. And yes, Munchkin-man, I AM going to incorporate Yrael's binding to the Abhorsen line. I am actually going to throw all five of the Great Charters in there. Just you wait! Enjoy!  
  
Chapter IV: Orannis  
  
~The Ninth was strong and fought with might~  
  
Back at the Council, a debate was beginning. Now that Yrael had been properly disposed of, albeit temporarily, they had to look at another problem. What were they to do with Orannis? Every night, his foothold in their universe could be seen. A tangled mass of raw magic, suspended forever in space. It was there, watching them, like a weary predator. They feared that he would strike at any moment. They decided it would be in their best interest to send a diplomat.  
  
"ME?!" shrieked Kibeth, after facing a unanimous vote from the Council. "Why me?!?"  
  
"Because," began Belgaer patiently, "You are the one who created the Anti- charter. This form of free, unconstrained magic is more dangerous than the raw magic the Orannis so gleefully wields."  
  
"If it weren't for the free magic that I created, then we would never have discovered Yrael's treacherous tendencies!' Kibeth cried out, desperate for a way to escape her predicament.  
  
"That may be so, but have you noticed what the stuff does? Every day Yrael absorbs a little from his cell. We all do. At this rate, we will slowly be shattered into small fragments of ourselves, lost forever in a-"  
  
Kibeth interrupted him coolly, "Shattered? By the Charter Magic WE created?"  
  
"Kibeth, this...Free Magic....is not Charter. Not at all. It is the exact opposite. It will kill us all. And as Belgaer said, Yrael is slowly consuming it, melding himself with it. Eventually, he will be more dangerous than any of the elementals we have been experimenting with. Speaking of that, I vote that we stop making them. They are evil. Can you not sense it?"  
  
"How can they be evil? Even if they're different from the Charter, they are still a form of it...it's like the raw magic that we used to be, only it is eating away at the Charter instead of being governed by it." piped up Ranna.  
  
"You poor, pathetic fools." All seven heads turned towards the voice coming from the center of the realm. Standing there, wreathed in shadow, glowing with raw magic and corrupted Charter Marks, stood Orannis, the Dark One.  
  
The seven stood there silently, analyzing the new appearance that Orannis had created for himself. It was the form of a tall, pale, thin human. He wore flowing black robes, complete with a gold trim. There was nothing very remarkable about him, except the sharp, ice blue eyes, and the tall silver staff at his side. At its top rested a large shard of jet, its black sheen glowing eerily in the golden light of the Charter. Within the gem there could be seen the traces of raw magic, melding with and destroying Charter Marks as they came across it, turning them into corrupted bits of nothing.  
  
"What business do you have here, Orannis?" spat out Saraneth, breaking the tense silence.  
  
He smiled brightly. "I have come to thank you all, especially Kibeth, for coming up with this wonderful new kind of magic! It is so adaptable, so powerful. Using it, I can create or destroy worlds with a thought, kill anything in a heartbeat. It is as if it were made for me to wield!" With that, he half-closed his eyes, muttered a few darks words, and spun his staff in a quarter circle. The jet at its peak began shining a dark red, and in a matter of seconds, he had ripped them out of the Charter, and forced them into his world.  
  
"Welcome," said Orannis, "to my home."  
  
As the seven watched, horrified, Orannis twirled his staff and pointed it at each bit of raw magic in sight, converting them one by one into the marks of Free Magic. Before their eyes, the size of Orannis's realm swelled. Immeasurably.  
  
Astarael drew the sword from its spot at her side, the only member of the Council sensible enough to carry a weapon.  
  
"Orannis. You have defied us, and the Charter we together have woven. These acts shall not go unpunished."  
  
Orannis stared at her for a few minutes, and then burst out laughing. "You idiot. It is too late for that! Now all of this world shall feel my wrath. From this day forth I shall be known as the Destroyer. And all shall be destroyed!"  
  
(A/N: Yeah, I know he says that in Abhorsen. I have a writer's block. Gimme a break here!)  
  
With that, Orannis raised his staff high in the air, with a fell wind blasting behind him, causing his cape to billow like a menacing cloud behind him, his blue eyes shining with brilliant intensity. He pointed his staff at Astarael, shouting out a spell to be heard over the gale.  
  
"You pathetic weaklings!" he called out, the wind whipping his hair around as the stone on his staff began to rage with a violent red glare, "You may have enjoyed your time as rulers of this universe, but your reign is over! Mine begins NOW!!!"  
  
A/N: Ack. This chapter is so short I can't stand it. And btw, I hate it. You probably do to. I have a very annoying writer's block, so I will love you forever if you review. Thanks! 


	6. The Binding of the Charter

A/N: Oh yay! SEVERAL reviews. I love them all! MINE REVIEWS! Oh ya. Here's a new thing. If you wanna be in my story, just email me. DO NOT say it in the review, you have to email. Tell me what you're name's gonna be, (make it Sabrielish.), your description, what you wanna be doing, etc etc etc. Hopefully, this will give me ideas (new characters always help), and help me get past my writer's block, which has diminished only a little bit. *Stabs writer's block with a brick* don't ask me how you stab with a brick...  
  
Chapter V: The Binding of the Charter  
  
~Five for the warp, from beginning to end~ ~Two for the woof, to make and mend~  
  
The seven watched in horror as Orannis lowered his staff, the obsidian shard pointing at her, like a small dagger carved out of the heart of Orannis's evil.  
  
Orannis continued with his demented spelling, wrapping his chants around the existing ones watching with satisfaction as his curse took effect. The wind reached a new crescendo, and the planet's three moons glared even more brightly. With a last shout, the gem at the staff's tip burst into a glittering light, dazzling the Shiners with a beauty that they had thought impossible to create with the vile magic at Orannis's disposal.  
  
He watched their reactions grimly, deciding to explain to them before erasing them from the fabric of the universe. "Hmph. So. You see now that even Free Magic and corrupted Charter can be used to create beauty. It's a shame that you resisted me so. How could you hope to win? Now then. It is time that you felt the full wrath of the Destroyer!!!" He whipped his staff upward, and silver moonlight whipped down from the heavens, twining around his staff, a triad of blazing whips. When he was done absorbing the light of the three moons, the obsidian changed from its normal shade of lustrous black. It was still basically the same, although deep within its heart could be seen the golden-silver fire that he had assimilated.  
  
"My spell is complete, then. I bid thee well, oh Seven, rulers of the universe, bringers of the Light and Order, masters of all." he said sarcastically, before twirling the staff in a pirouette, unleashing all of its stored energies. In a flash of light, the moonfire shot out, twisting and writhing around a violet-red core of raw magic. This in itself would annihilate any lesser being, but Orannis decided to go farther. Out of his mouth tumbled marks of Free Magic, warping the space around them and causing a metallic glare to form around the beam, which was drawing ever closer to the outcrop of rocks that the seven were hiding behind.  
  
"What are we going to do?" Ranna whispered nervously as the dark flare ripped its away across space, rapidly causing the distance between them to close.  
  
Mosrael looked at her for a few seconds, before bursting into laughter. "We are such IDIOTS! We have all been working on our powers, right? Well. Let's hear 'em. Ranna?"  
  
She coughed nervously. "Well. I'm working on a sleeping charm, but it's not done yet..."  
  
Mosrael shook his head, annoyed. "Guess we're opposites. Mine's waking, but some good that will do to us here. Kibeth?"  
  
Kibeth laughed slightly. "Walking, it's called. Actually, it's more like moving. Or commanding. Or something...that could help I guess."  
  
"Right. Okay. Dyrim?"  
  
"Nothing." said Dyrim, looking at them each helplessly. "What am I supposed to do? I have nothing..."  
  
"Okay then..." Mosrael shook his head unhappily before continuing. "Belgaer has already told me...thinking...huh...we know Saraneth's is binding. That leaves you, Astarael."  
  
Astarael looked at the other six nervously. "Well...err...mine is..." she stuttered, looking for an excuse, "hmm.... well...ah. Mine isn't done yet either!" she concluded, sounding almost triumphant.  
  
Mosrael looked at her skeptically. "Riiight. Okay then. Now. Saraneth, work your magic on that spell. Kibeth, after its bound, move it."  
  
"Yessir!" they said, throwing sarcastic salutes.  
  
At this point, the spell was racing towards them at a velocity of 5 meters per second. They had been able to run to this outcropping as he was casting the spell, and it was several miles away. The dark fireball was about one mile away, and closing fast.  
  
Saraneth stood up, wavering slightly, his earth brown hair ruffling faintly in the breeze. He cleared his throat, and began speaking the words that would call the spell he had constructed. After a few seconds, he could feel it uncoiling itself from the ebb and flow of the Charter, rising upwards to his waiting hands.  
  
It waited, like a chain in his hands, quivering with energy. Its golden links glittered and shone in the perpetual twilight of Orannis's home world, its essence aroused at the nearness of the millions of Anti-charter marks composing the threat that was racing towards them. The spell was nearing completion, and Saraneth threw the spell, compacted into a small Spell Orb, spitting out the last word as he did so. There was a loud, high- pitched scream as Orannis's spell smashed into Saraneth's, and a blinding flash of light swept across the plain, the shockwave vanishing over the horizon. When the smoke and ash cleared, there could see that the moonfire in His curse had been shredded, falling to the ground as a blackish-silver powder. The remainder, the Free Magic, was wrestling with the shards of Saraneth's power, vying for control. After several tense seconds, it froze, and the bits and pieces of the Spell Orb began orbiting the maelstrom that was all that was left of Orannis's spell. The shards spun around, faster and faster, forming what looked like a solid sphere all around. It constricted, squeezing the curse into a small shell of its original glory. Finally, it stopped. Surprisingly it WAS a solid shell, a golden matrix that had woven itself around the evils contained within.  
  
At that moment, gravity decided to take effect, and the Orb wavered briefly, before plummeting to the ground, shattering into several thousand bits.  
  
As the air cooled, the seven looked at each other uneasily. For all the world it looked like Saraneth's spell had failed, and it would seem like just that, if it weren't for the fact that Orannis's was still a twitching mass of energy, stuck to the ground. Or, more appropriately, bound there. Indeed, if one looked closely, they could see millions of tiny currents, flowing faster than the eye could see, ripping across. They were nearly invisible, and looked faintly like something else the seven had created; electricity.  
  
Saraneth allowed himself a wry grin. "Perfect," he said, "Your turn, Kibeth." He bowed slightly in her direction, still smiling, and allowed himself a small laugh.  
  
She glared at him good-naturedly. "Of course, brother..." She ran through her spell much more quickly then Saraneth, and twirled it around in her hands, enjoying its feel. "Unlike you, Saraneth, mine has not been tested and trouble-shot. So, if mine works on it's first try, all the better!" she tossed her head happily, her long black hair blowing behind her. She laughed, and threw her spell out. It wrapped itself around Orannis's, like a cloak of glittery gold silk. It sank into the mass of writhing energy, giving it a bright yellowish tinge. She walked towards it, talking to it, slipping into the magical speech of the Charter. As she knelt next to the crippled spell, she began talking to it, urging it to bend to her will.  
  
"There must be some way to get it to do this without talking to it," she thought, before sighing and continuing her work. After a few more minutes of fervent persuading, she was ready. She quickly said the required Master Mark, sealing the spell. In a flash of blinding light, her work took effect, warping through the fabric of space, distorting it. Suddenly, they were all behind the rock again, with the curse in the same location it had been the second before Saraneth had bound it. There were, however two differences. First of all, and the more subtle, the silver moonfire within no longer cracked and twisted like a creature in agony. Now, it flowed and turned with a harmonized rhythm. A more noticeable change was that it was blasting not towards them, but in the opposite direction; instead of hurtling towards them, it was on a direct path to Orannis.  
  
Back at a plateau near the south pole of his planet, Orannis sat, cross- legged, his coal-black cloak billowing slightly around him. His eyes were closed, and his hands were in a meditative position. His eyes shot open, a pale droplet of sweat beading on his forehead. He had lost all control of his spell. The other thing was that in the instant beforehand, he had felt a tremendous surge of power, and something that felt like a time warp...  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The seven felt the blast of energy that emanated from Orannis's location. It was a shockwave, tinged with Charter marks. And, if they were senseless enough to ignore that, they would have to be deaf to not notice his screams.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
He saw the beam of darkness he had created rushing towards him. He had poured all of his energy into that wave, ensuring that it be the sevens' death sentence. He also saw what they had done to it. In short, it was no longer his creation, but theirs. All of these thoughts raced through his head in the milliseconds before impact. As the wave ripped into his body, destroying the body he had spent years constructing, all of these thoughts vanished except for one. Revenge.  
  
When they felt his pain ripple across the planet, they decided it was time to vacate the area. Their idea was quickly confirmed as they felt his rage, stretching across the world, ripping at their hearts like it was a spell all in itself. An enormous red flash flared up on the horizon, stretching on for hundreds of miles. A beam of whirling, glaring energy shot up into the heavens, marking his location like a beacon. Just as quickly, what looked like a red fireball was ripping across the horizon, heading towards them at an insane pace.  
  
"Orannis!" whispered Ranna, panic beginning to show on her normally calm face. "What are we going to do?"  
  
Mosrael, as opposed to comforting her, decided to get to the point. "What do you think we're going to do?! Let's get out of here!!" with that, he began frantically searching in the Charter stream, searching for the marks he needed. In a matter of seconds, he was done. He took the chain of marks, a spell for teleportation, and laid it on the ground in a circle. However, those few seconds also meant another thing. Orannis was gaining on them, and fast.  
  
"Hurry! Into the circle!" he cried, urging them into the space occupied by the spell. Once he was sure that everyone was in, he stepped into it himself. He pulled a series of Master Marks out of the Charter, and hurriedly threw them onto the current spell. The ring glowed with an eerie gold sheen, and suddenly, they were gone.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Orannis blasted across the landscape, dark blues and grays blending into blacks and darker grays as he stormed past. Now that he didn't have the constraint of the body, he was at the peak of his power. Unfortunately, he could only stay that way for a few days. If he overstayed in his current form, he would be instantaneously translated to a universe similar to what this one had been like in the beginning of time. That was the last thing he wanted.  
  
When he noticed the spell-ring on the ground around Mosrael, he sped up quickly; the thought of losing his prey when they were only a few miles away agitated him. Finally, he was close enough to attack them with spells and other destructive forces. He allowed himself a small chuckle of satisfaction as he tore straight towards them, preparing to incinerate them with the heat emanating from his figure. He watched them turn in horror at how close he was. Finally, he shredded the space where they had been, turning around to see their ashes falling to the ground. Unexpectedly, he saw instead the faint motes of light that signified a successful spell.  
  
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
On the ground of a new planet called Earth, the seven lay on the ground, exhausted from the effort of warping to the opposite corner of the universe.  
  
"Well...." said Belgaer, gasping for air, "At least...we're safe now..."  
  
Dyrim looked at him, mild scorn evident about her. "Belgaer. Orannis's body has been ripped to bits. By us. The laws that we bestowed upon this universe no longer apply to him. If he can so much as guess a general location of our whereabouts, we'll be as good as found. We need defenses. Guards even. We need to seal ourselves into the Charter."  
  
Everyone winced upon hearing this. They had all realized that it would have to happen, but giving up their individuality, becoming part of everything, was not something that they had wanted to think about. Now, out in the open, the fact was hard to accept.  
  
"Well...." Astarael began, carefully, "We need to think of what to do, exactly. This is not something that we can go back and fix if we mess up. What we create if permanent."  
  
Everyone nodded in agreement to her sage advice, and Saraneth offered his. "I think we should create a world, a world near the Heart of the Charter. A place where all of our creations can live together, yet magic is evident to. That would be a good place to start."  
  
This broke into a full-scale debate, with all but Kibeth participating. They discussed what to do, whom to bring, how to separate the magic from the normal, and various other things.  
  
After listening to the conversation stretch on for an hour, Kibeth decided to suggest something. "How about this...' she tentatively began, nervous at going against what the six seemed to be agreeing on. Unfortunately, nobody heard her to begin with. She sat, frustrated, and decided to try again.  
  
"Eh-hem! How about..." still, the debate continued, no one noticing or caring about her.  
  
In anger, she lashed out, blasting the ground around them with a burning light. The six blinked in confusion, their eyes adjusting to the sudden brilliance.  
  
"Well." said Mosrael, "That was uncalled for."  
  
Kibeth glared at him sullenly for a few moments before speaking. "As you have seen with Orannis, I do not think we should make access to the Charter available to just anyone, maybe they should have to be baptized in our name, promising to use it only for our purposes. If the Charter does not accept the being, then they shall be blasted out of existence. That way, the only mages in this world shall be those whom we can trust..."  
  
This went on for about half an hour, Kibeth outlining her plans for acceptance into the Charter. Finally, she finished with that topic, and started her second.  
  
"The world could be made of several continents, with different governments on each one. Each continent would be separated by an expanse of water, to provide for independence. We could use the largest as our headquarters, using a Wall to separate us from them. South of the Wall would be the normal world, and north would be ours. No magic would exist except from within our Kingdom. We would erect stones to maintain the Charter, projectors if you will, of Charter 'Magic'. Wherever stones aren't would be a passage into the world of the Anti-charter. But since Anti-charter is still a form of Charter, it would not exist. Therefore, there could only be magic where there were these 'Charter Stones'."  
  
Mosrael raised a hand, stopping her. He began to speak, a wry grin playing across his normally serious face. "This is an unusual show of insight on your part, Kibeth. So far, I like it immensely. However, before you get too caught up in your ideas, let us take a vote. That way, if we decide to kill the idea, you won't have wasted your time."  
  
Kibeth looked offended for a moment, then changed her mind. She nodded her assent, and Mosrael began polling the group.  
  
"Ranna?"  
  
Ranna thought for a moment, the nodded, distracted.  
  
"Good. I vote yes, and obviously Kibeth does the same. Dyrim?"  
  
"It is a good idea, but needs some work. I vote yes."  
  
"Okay then. Belgaer?" Belgaer nodded slowly. "Excellent. That is a majority. Please continue, Kibeth."  
  
Kibeth sat still for a moment, annoyed at the interruption, then picked up where she left off. "Somewhere we would have several 'great' Charter Stones, something to turn to as an energy source if all else were destroyed. These would be heavily guarded, of course. Also, the Wall would help act as a barrier. Anything not of our creation would be destroyed on contact, unless there was ill fortune enough for a wind to be blowing from the north, which would taint everything with magic for them to pass. We would need families of guardians, one to preserve the Charter, one to guard the Great Charter Stones, and one to assist both. There may be more later, but I think that will be all that is needed. I think that would take five of us to give ourselves up. One for each bloodline, one for the Stones, and one for the Wall. What would the other two do?"  
  
There was a length of silence here, then it was broke by Astarael. "I believe that they would give themselves up to create new marks, to make the Charter more adaptable. They would also be a balance, and to make it infinite. In its current state, it will last a long time, but not forever. If one, or two of us fueled it, however..."  
  
Kibeth nodded thoughtfully. "So we have it then. Now we just need to decide whom does what. We had better get started..."  
  
A/N: LoL. I sort of rushed into the making of Ancelstierre and the Old Kingdom, now didn't I. Don't worry, they don't die. They don't sacrifice themselves fully until the end. Anyways...Hmm. A longer chapter I see. But like I said earlier, I'm going to need characters later. If you want to be in it, just send me a name, brief bio, your fanfic penname, and personality. Talents and such would be nice too. Thanks!!! I'll update when I get one character person, and at least two reviews. I need SOME bribery.... really now. LoL. Thanks you oh faithful reviewers! 


	7. The War Begins

A/N: I.am.so.sorry! I don't know what the heck happened to me! I haven't updated in AGES! Well in that time, if I do say so myself, my writing skills improved, or at least changed. I'm not AS comma-happy any more! I hope you like it.And we have a new character! YAY! Not sure when to introduce her, but ah well. I decided to use the same two lines of the poem, since they still apply. I'm afraid the colorful language that flowed so easily from my fingers back then seems to have departed, so my descriptions (probably) won't be nearly as vivid. Apologies.  
  
Chapter VII: The War Begins  
  
~Five for the warp, from beginning to end~ ~Two for the woof, to make and mend~  
  
Orannis was, too say the least, quite frustrated. "Where in the blasted Charter are they?!" he screamed to the winds of the planet. He had constructed for himself a pseudo-body, enough to give him more substance, but not quite enough to detract a significant amount from his awesome power.  
  
He had just returned, once more, to the world of Free Magic that he had claimed so many centuries ago. The only accomplishment he had to speak of was finding the Sevens' old fortress on an abandoned planet. Indeed, that had been a good day, but it was not enough. He had however stumbled across their old experimenting chambers, and found residual creatures from those times. They had dwindled away to almost nothing, but he had managed to revive them. He almost grinned when he remembered...  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by one of his newly formed servants rapping on the door to his chambers. He had created a stronghold for himself the day he formed his new body, a palace of gleaming onyx and writhing marks of corrupted spells.  
  
"Come in." he said in an annoyed tone, contemplating whether or not he should blast whoever poked their head inside his door. He decided to give them ten seconds, and if whatever they said wasn't interesting or important enough, they had better run away. Fast.  
  
He sat up in his chair angrily when the wavering door of magic was not opened, but instead ripped to shreds with a loud hiss, chains of golden-red and black marks falling to the ground, revealing an imposing figure in a black cloak standing in the doorway.  
  
"Who are you?" Orannis allowed himself to sit back down, deciding that anyone stupid or brave enough to barge into his castle uninvited might have something worthwhile to say. He realized that if he was bored enough to allow this visitor to speak, he really needed to think of a better plan to track down the Seven.  
  
The figure tilted its head back, allowing the hood of the cloak to fall back, exposing the face of what looked like a woman.  
  
"Kibeth!" spat the Destroyed as he stood up in a rage, raising his hand and sending the silver staff in the corner of his small chamber flying into his hand. "I promised myself I would let whoever came into my doorway have ten seconds to speak. I give you five. Explain yourself!"  
  
The woman chuckled softly, throwing off the cloak completely, exposing a light blue surcoat, and a leather bandolier, from which hung seven glowing orbs of crystal, each a different color. "I am not Kibeth, although it is quite possible that I am one of her creations. You may call me Zara, and I am the first of several messengers sent by the Almighty Seven to negotiate the cessation of your quest to destroy them." Her eyes flashed brilliantly, and the golden mark on her forehead glowed as well.  
  
Orannis sat back down once again, an amused smile on his face. He allowed the accumulating magic in his rod to discharge, wiping out several of the small elementals he kept as attendants. "Cessation of my quest to destroy them? Are they mad?" his smile broke into a full-out laugh, his eyes twinkling almost merrily. He was about to speak again when one of his servants dashed in excitedly.  
  
"Master! We've found them! We've found the seven!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It had been seven years, to the day, since they had decided to give themselves up to the Charter. Of course, they had ended up not doing it. That is to say, they partially did, but only in the same manner that Orannis had made himself a body; it was half-done, not really enough to count.  
  
"Do you think Zara will accomplish her task?" Ranna asked of Kibeth, her voice wavering nervously.  
  
Kibeth snorted, trying not to laugh. "Of course it will! She'll get to that palace of his, Claim to be a messenger, tell us via the orbs, and we'll send off that energy signal. Then she'll rip him to shreds when he's distracted! Simple! The orbs hold enough of our power to keep Orannis at bay, for a few moments anyway, should things take a bad turn. You worry far too much little sister."  
  
It was Ranna's turn to laugh. "Little sister? If I remember correctly, we named and created ourselves at the exact same time. My point is, how do you expect a human, a mortal, to vanquish a power that we couldn't, armed with only a fragment of our power. Her mastery of the Charter may be good, but no one can match us. We know every mark, every eddy of its flow."  
  
Kibeth's face turned dark at the words. "You are probably right, but we musn't lose hope. Hope is all we have at the moment anyway. Charter knows we hardly have enough of it as is."  
  
A/N: Yes, this chapter was deliberately short. I will undoubtedly extend it, as it is not done. I just want a few reviews pointing out exactly where and how my writing style has changed, and, if its for the worse, how to better it! -Aldrai out 


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